


From Apples to Answers

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [25]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Background Het, Developing Friendships, Family Issues, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Magic, Robotics, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 12:10:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: Church may have joined the Robotics Club to escape the brownstone, but he ends up learning more about what Simmons has been up to. Meanwhile, Carolina has to do some hasty problem-solving when Grey plays a magical prank.





	From Apples to Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the delayed update! 
> 
> Real life is kicking my butt, so updates will probably be a bit slower from now on, but I'm excited about the rest of season three! We have so many plans.... 
> 
> Thanks as always to Aryashi for reading this over and making suggestions.

Wash is being weird. First, he didn’t leave his backpack in the locker room. Now they’re doing warm-up stretches for practice and he keeps darting looks in the direction of his backpack, left on the nearby bench.

Carolina leans over and whispers, “Did your sister rope you into taking care of her Tamagotchi again?”

Wash half-grimaces. “No,” he whispers back.

Then the noises start, muffled but distinctly a distressed noise.

“...Did you bring a cat to school?”

“_No._”

Carolina straightens from touching her toes, squinting at Wash’s flustered expression as the noise grows louder.

“Crap,” Wash mutters. He jogs hastily over to his backpack. When he unzips it, the sound gets even louder.

Carolina follows him, curious and confused. It doesn’t sound like a cat, now that she concentrates. In fact, it sounds like…

From across the field comes an irritated yell from Sarge, who’s in the middle of setting up hurdles. “Son, that better be one of those babies Bogzigian has been handing out!”

“She’s been handing out _what_?” Carolina asks, and then peers over Wash’s shoulder to see the very plastic, very fake baby that’s nevertheless making her ears ring as it screeches its anger.

“Fake babies,” Wash says glumly, holding the baby to his chest and giving it a few half-hearted pats on the back. The crying subsides and he looks relieved for a second before he sighs. “We all have to take care of one for forty-eight hours.”

“Sounds fun,” Carolina says. She tries to keep a straight face, but she can feel her lips twitching. Eventually she just gives up and grins.

“It’s not,” Wash says. He pats the baby on the back again and mutters, “I just wanted to learn how to cook, help my mom around the house….”

“Look at this way,” Carolina suggests, still grinning. “Now you're going to respect your mom even more. You have to deal with a fake baby for two days. She has three kids _forever_.”

“Quit coddling the baby and get back to stretching!” Sarge hollers.

Wash looks torn between embarrassment and worry. He shifts the plastic baby from one arm to the other and says, “Sir, I can’t leave the baby, it’ll start crying again--”

“Then just wear your backpack!”

Wash blinks. He exchanges a look with Carolina, who shrugs, privately glad that she didn’t signed up for Home Ec this year. “Uh, Sarge, I don't think that sounds safe--”

“Nonsense!” Sarge bellows brusquely. “Just consider it weight training! Now get back to your stretches!”

Wash groans softly. “I’m so gonna fail Home Ec,” he says even as he returns the baby to his backpack and slides the straps on across his shoulders.

Carolina gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm.

* * *

Robotics Club hasn’t even started yet and Church already regrets joining. All the other kids are nerds, except for Caboose and Sheila, but they’re too busy chatting for him to get a word in edgewise.

Speaking of nerds, Simmons is writing his name on the board like everyone doesn’t already know who he is. It’s stupid. It’s so stupid that it’s almost a relief when Simmons turns and says brightly, “Okay, most of you know me, but I’m Mr. Simmons. Since this is our first robotics club meeting, I thought we could do a little icebreaker. Why don’t you introduce yourself and say why you joined the robotics club.”

“Oh!” Caboose’s hand is up in the air. He squirms a little in his seat, like he’s trying to raise his hand even higher. “Can I go first, Mr. Simmons?”

Simmons looks a little amused. “Yes.”

Caboose grins around at the group. “I’m Michael J. Caboose. I am doing the robotics club because robots are really cool and I want to make one for my sisters.”

“That’s a great reason,” Simmons says. “Though we’re doing basic robots, Caboose, so I hope your sisters aren’t expecting Power Rangers or Transformers.”

Sheila nods. “Yes, that is so thoughtful. I am Sheila. I joined the robotics club because I want to be an engineer. I thought this would be an excellent learning experience!” She pauses and adds with a slow smile, “And I will enjoy the company.”

“Gross,” Church almost says as Caboose flushes. He’s fighting back an eye roll when he realizes everyone’s looking at him. He gives them all a thin-lipped smile and a deadpan answer. “I’m Church. I joined because otherwise I’m grounded. This was a way out of the house.”

Simmons’ eyes narrow behind his glasses. Church is almost hopeful that he’s about to lose his cool, but instead he just says, “Well, I think we’ll get you interested in robots by the end of the year,” and turns to the next student.

Caboose sighs. He tears his attention away from Sheila long enough to stare hopefully at Church. “Do you think if I asked Ms. Kimball and Dr. Grey really, really nicely, you’d stop being grounded?”

Church snorts. “You can try, but I’m pretty sure I’m grounded for a century.”

“At least we have school and robotics club,” Caboose says. He brightens. “You could build a robot for Carolina!”

Church shakes his head. “Nah. If I build a robot, it's gonna be for me.”

* * *

Sarge’s suggestion for Wash to just carry the fake baby on his back works until they have to jump over the hurdles.

Carolina is right behind him, so she can see the way his backpack keeps bouncing on his back. It makes a heavy sound every time he lands. She can’t see his expression, but she wonders if he’s going to wind up with bruises after this.

She’s mid-jump when the backpack slips off his shoulders. She doesn’t really think about it, just lands and uses that momentum to dive forward. She catches the backpack a second before it can hit the ground. Her knees hit the track and she winces. Well, at least one of them is leaving practice with a bruise or two.

“Thanks,” Wash says breathlessly, leaning over the hurdle.

“Figured you’d fail if your baby broke,” Carolina says, offering the backpack to him.

Wash makes a face. “Probably.”

“Don’t fail Home Ec,” Carolina says. It comes out a little more forceful than she intends. When he raises an eyebrow as he slips the backpack back on, she shrugs and brushes at her knees so she doesn’t have to look at him when she says, “Can’t do track if you fail.”

“Yeah, that’d suck,” Wash says, deadpan. His expression doesn’t match his tone when she looks up at him; he’s smiling crookedly, and there’s something in his face that makes her think he’s missed her too. He rolls his shoulders, testing the backpack. “Now, c’mon. We better start running or Sarge will kick us off the team.”

Carolina grins at him. “Maybe he’ll kick _you_ off the team.” Then she braces herself and runs for the next hurdle.

“Hey!” he protests.

A second later, she can hear the thud of his shoes on the track and the steady thump of his backpack as he runs after her.

* * *

Church wasn’t expecting science fiction robots, but he also wasn’t expecting to build robots out of recycled plastic bottles, cardboard tubes, motors, and batteries. The googly eyes glued onto the bottles just tip the whole thing from pathetic to vaguely creepy. He watches his junkbot wobble across the desk.

Just as it’s about to lurch straight off the table, Caboose scoops it into his hands. The motor makes a protesting sound, half-lost under Caboose’s excited, “Look, Sheila!” His voice is quiet for Caboose, which means it’s been lowered to a soft bellow. The googly eyes rattle wildly on the bottle. “Church’s robot is so cute.”

“It’s not cute,” Church mutters as Sheila leans forward and examines the robot closely.

“It’s cute!” Caboose insists. “They’re all cute!”

“Yes, everyone did a great job with their first robot!” Simmons says. He’s smiling and clearly sincere, but as Church watches his eyes dart towards the clock. “But we need to wrap up, so everyone should disconnect the batteries from the motors. Well, unless you want your robot to run away from you on your way home!”

There’s some dutiful laughter from a couple nerds who want to suck up to Simmons like you can get an A in a club. Caboose looks a little worried at the idea and Sheila seems genuinely amused, letting out a low laugh.

Caboose carefully passes the robot back to Church. “Be sure to disconnect the batteries!”

“Sure,” Church says. He doesn’t have the heart to tell Caboose he’s probably going to dump it in the trash as soon as he gets back to the brownstone. From the corner of his eye, he notices Simmons glancing at the clock again. Why’s he in such a hurry?

“How are you getting home?” Caboose asks as they pack up their robots. He smiles shyly at Sheila. “Sheila’s sister is going to drop me off, but maybe--”

Church inwardly grimaces at the idea of being stuck in a car with Sheila and her apparently amazing sister while Caboose makes googly eyes of his own at Sheila. “I’m gonna just hang out until Carolina’s practice is over, hitch a ride with her and Wash.”

“Oh,” Caboose says, looking a little disappointed.

“I can ask Phyllis for next time,” Sheila says. She smiles at them. “I don’t think she would mind.”

The most annoying thing is, Church decides, is that Carolina was right. Sheila _is_ nice. A little weird and still oddly formal, like she grew up watching TV from the 1950s, but nice. And she actually likes Caboose.

“Yeah, sure,” Church mutters. He grabs his backpack and stuffs the robot inside. “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Caboose says quietly. Church avoids his eyes but he knows that Caboose is still looking disappointed. “Bye, Church!”

Church glances towards Simmons, just in time to watch him flip open his bag and do a hasty hunt for something. Church recognizes that stupid binder, still straining to hold all the photocopied spells and decorated with a bunch of post-it notes.

Church’s stomach twists as he puts two and two together. Simmons is antsy because he’s heading off to do magic with Leonard.

Church hates the idea of these stupid magic lessons. He hates them so much. If the Council finds out, it’s game over, and for all that Church has racked his brain, he can’t figure out what Leonard means with the cost analysis crap. Sure, Simmons being able to use magic has helped Church and Carolina out once or twice, but Leonard doesn’t know that. Or at least Church doesn’t think he does. Unless he _does_, except he doesn't, there's no way he'd know, but what if--

“Goodnight, Church,” Sheila says, jerking him out of his thoughts.

“Uh, right,” he says, blinking at her. He watches Simmons clearly fight the urge to rush everyone out of the classroom and decides there’s no way he’s going another day without knowing more about Leonard’s stupid magic lessons.

Which is how Church ends up hiding behind a bush, waiting for Simmons to get to his car. He watches Caboose get into Sheila’s sister’s car, and then spies the familiar red hair. It’s only as Simmons gets into his car that Church realizes he didn’t think about how he’s going to follow him.

“Uh,” he mutters, and then hastily points his finger at himself. Between one blink and the next he ends up crouched in the backseat of Simmons’ car, breathing as quietly as possible as Simmons mutters, “Okay, so where am I going…?”

Church clamps his hands over his mouth and listens because Simmons definitely seems like the kind of guy who talks to himself. Maybe Simmons will be useful and actually blab about what he’s got planned with Leonard and spare Church this uncomfortable car ride.

Instead there’s a rustle of paper, and Simmons says, excitement coloring the words, “Left or right? Right. Definitely right.”

The car rumbles to life beneath them. When it moves, the momentum smushes Church’s face against the back of the passenger seat, his fingers trapped between his mouth and the seat fabric. It’s not the greatest sensation, but Church doesn’t make a sound. He just hopes it’s a short car ride.

It’s not.

* * *

“Thank you for dropping me off, Mrs. Washington,” Carolina says as she climbs into the back of the car. She maneuvers Miranda’s trombone case out of the way and buckles in.

Wash’s mom smiles. “Of course! I wanted to catch up. We’ve all missed you these last few weeks.” She turns and adds, “_Especially_ David.”

“Mom,” Wash groans. He has his backpack down at his feet. As he twists in his seat to make a face at his mom, he must jostle it. Either that, or the fake baby has a sixth sense on when it would be most embarrassing to make sounds, because the fake baby starts crying again.

Wash’s mom’s eyebrows practically jump off her face.

“I got a fake baby in Home Ec,” Wash mumbles. When his mom stares at him, he sighs and pulls the fake baby out of his bag. It keeps making distressed sounds, and he squints at it. “It’s probably hungry?”

Wash’s mom just stares for a moment. Then she laughs until she has to wipe away tears. “I didn’t realize they were still doing that to you kids. Have fun, sweetheart.”

Wash sighs. He holds the baby awkwardly in his lap, giving it a few unenthusiastic pats until it quiets down. “I won’t.”

Carolina sees Wash’s mom’s lips twitch in amusement, but she doesn’t laugh again. At least until they get to the brownstone and the baby, with perfect timing, starts wailing again.

Grey opens the front door and giggles. “Now I know Carolina has been grounded, but I don’t think she’s been out of touch enough for _that_ particular surprise!”

“No, I’m afraid they’re still doing the fake baby in Home Ec,” says Wash’s mom, laughing again. She shakes her head. “I’m not sure if the bag of flour I had to keep safe for a week was better or worse. How about you? A bag of flour or an egg?” The questions are directed at Grey.

Grey’s expression goes blank for a second before she smiles again. “Oh, that wasn’t on the curriculum when I was their age.” She glances curiously towards Wash, her gaze lingering on the fake baby. A familiar gleam lights her eyes, and Carolina gets a sinking feeling in her stomach as Grey adds, “Do you have to leave immediately, or can I entice you to a cup of coffee?”

Wash grins hopefully when his mom agrees to the coffee. “Uh, does that mean Carolina and I can hang out for a minute?”

Grey purses her lips and looks thoughtful. “For however long it takes us to finish that coffee,” she decides, and then wiggles a finger as Wash practically jumps out of the car, clutching the baby to his chest. “But she’s still grounded!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wash agrees.

“Come on,” Carolina says, not trusting the gleam in Grey’s eyes. She grabs Wash’s arm and tries to steer him in a wide berth around Grey, silently giving her a look that she hopes conveys a ‘please don’t do magic around my friend and his mom’ to her. If Grey notices her expression, she doesn’t acknowledge it. “We’ll hang out in my room.”

“Very well,” Grey says. Before Carolina can get Wash past her, Grey reaches out and taps the baby’s plastic cheek. There’s the faintest flash of purple, like the sunlight has hit her nails at just the right angle, and Grey’s smile widens. “Fake babies. What a _fascinating_ idea.”

* * *

Church bites back a sigh of relief when the car finally comes to a stop. Then he realizes that Simmons will see him if he glances into the backseat. He squeezes his eyes shut and holds his breath, feeling stupid but knowing he can’t exactly do an invisibility spell.

Luck’s on his side. Simmons gets out of the car without noticing him.

Church waits for a minute, and then cautiously lifts his head. For a second he just stares, incredulous. Why is Simmons meeting Leonard at the park? At least that’s where Church thinks they are. This is deeper into the woods than Church ever bothered going, but Simmons is awkwardly hopping over a 'no entry' blockade and disappearing down an unused path. Maybe they want a place to do magic undisturbed?

He creeps out of the car and follows.

Church is close enough behind Simmons to see that Simmons brought his bag with the stupid binder, and to get a good look at his ridiculously awkward walk where Simmons clearly wants to run but also doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

As distracted as Simmons is, he’s not oblivious. Church keeps having to take hasty jumps into bushes and behind trees, because Simmons keeps glancing over his shoulder.

When Simmons stops and actually calls, “Hello?” Church bolts behind the nearest tree and almost runs straight into a deer. He bites back a scream just in time, clamping his hands to his mouth again.

The deer blinks dark, startled eyes and springs past him, its tail flicking Church in the face. It’s Simmons who yells in surprise as the deer leaps past. “Y-yeah, just talking to deer,” he says, laughing weakly. “Great.”

They resume their awkward little follow the leader game, which is a game Church doesn’t recommend to anyone. Finally the trees thin out further down the path and open into a clearing.

Church crouches behind a bush, peering through the leaves as Simmons fumbles with his bag, stuffing the map inside, and says brightly, “Good evening, Doctor Church!”

Church hears Leonard’s unwelcome voice before he sees him. “Richard. Are you ready to begin?”

Simmons sounds breathless with excitement and nerves. “Oh yes! Though, uh, what are we doing, exactly? Will I get to try a spell tonight? I, uh, had some suggestions, if we wanted to start small, ones I’ve tried in the past without success before you, um, offered your help!”

Church blinks. He didn’t hear that right, he decides. There’s no way they haven’t been doing any magic. Leonard isn’t the kind of guy who’d just sit around and talk magic theory with a mortal--

“Uh, you said something about new magical resources--”

“Yes,” Leonard says. The single cool word is enough to shut up Simmons. He doesn’t elaborate.

Church wasn’t really expecting him to. He recognizes that all-too familiar expression of Leonard’s. Simmons is just another interesting experiment, not someone Leonard actually _respects_. Church grits his teeth, irritated on Simmons’ behalf and annoyed that Leonard’s made him feel even a little bad for Simmons.

Leonard says, “We will, of course, start with the basics.” He tosses something in Simmons’ direction.

Simmons yelps in surprise and almost doesn’t catch it. He fumbles, and manages to clutch the item to his chest. “Right,” he says. When he holds it out, Church realizes it’s an apple. Simmons stares down at it, visibly fighting disappointment. “So you meant really basic. An apple into an orange...”

Leonard nods.

Simmons squares his shoulders. He stares at the apple for a second, his eyes narrowed. There’s still disappointment in his expression, but now there’s a new, badly hidden emotion that Church recognizes from multiple classes watching Simmons determinedly trying to get kids interested in chemistry: stubbornness.

Simmons holds the apple up and says, “Apples to oranges--” His voice falters. Confusion fills his face for a second, and then a growing excitement replaces it. He starts to smile, and he sounds giddy as he says, “Apples to oranges is all well and good, but I can add some citrus to these woods!”

The apple begins to glow maroon as magic swirls around it. Simmons flips his hand over and drops the apple. It doesn’t hit the ground, but sinks into the earth. For a second, nothing happens, and Simmons’ smile starts to twist, and then a miniature tree explodes from the ground with enough force that dirt goes flying and Church almost jumps out of his skin.

A single flower blossoms on the tree, and from the flower, a miniature orange.

Wordlessly, Leonard bends down and plucks the orange off the tree.

Church wants to take satisfaction in Leonard’s blank expression, the one that means he’s having an internal freakout, but the shock of the spell made him jump, and now he’s half-caught in the bush, one leg twisted awkwardly under him. Most of his weight is on the other leg, and that one’s already starting to shake.

“It worked,” Simmons says, beaming. He bends over the tree, and then sways a little. He ends up using the tree as a crutch for a second. The aftereffects don’t seem to bother him too much, because he laughs and says, “I could feel it. The air was different. It was like when I did the spell at my dad’s house.”

Leonard tucks the orange away with a slow, careful movement. For a moment he doesn’t respond, lost in his thoughts. He looks at Simmons again, genuine curiosity in his expression. “You came up with that spell on your own?”

“Um, yes, sir.” Simmons looks down at the tree and realizes he’s still clutching it. He straightens with a flustered laugh, fiddling with his glasses. “Were we going to repeat the spell? I wonder if I concentrate and envision more oranges, we’d get more fruit.”

Leonard studies Simmons again, his brow creased. He’s not looking at Simmons like he’s an experiment anymore. There’s something like satisfaction and approval in his face. “Perhaps. If my theory is correct, you should be able to do multiple spells here.”

Church grits his teeth, hating the twist of his stomach that should be annoyance but isn’t. He’s not jealous of Simmons. The clench of his jaw digs a branch into his cheek. He resists the urge to swat it away from him even as he tries to keep himself from tottering.

“Your theory?” Simmons prompts.

Leonard glances at the tree again. “I suspect that rather than relying on a witch’s inborn magic, when you attempt a spell, you draw on effluvium and other natural magics.”

“I’d wondered about that,” Simmons says quickly. Church is pretty sure he doesn’t realize he’s still grinning like an idiot. “Since, uh, most of the time my spells worked when I was around witches. But then I did a spell at my father’s house and no one there is a witch, though Grif did sense something magical--”

“One of the few benefits to being a familiar,” Leonard says dryly. “Animals are more in tune with ley lines.”

“Ley lines?” Simmons echoes. He’s probably about to pelt Leonard with a million questions, but that’s the second Church’s leg cramps and he goes face-first into the bush.

He bites back a curse, hoping that the rustling hasn’t given him away. More branches poke him. He bites back another one as something hits him in the back, a faint pressure radiating through his backpack. Then there’s a loud grinding sound. Crap, that stupid robot--

Leonard turns his direction and gestures.

It’s like someone grabs Church by the shoulders and drags him forward. He yelps in surprise and flings up an arm to protect his eyes as he goes through the bushes and lands on his knees in the clearing.

When he lowers his arm, Simmons looks surprised and Leonard looks absolutely furious. His stomach twists again, and he bares his teeth in a grin.

“Hi, Leonard. You guys having fun?”

* * *

Carolina stares at the fake baby. It doesn’t stare back or do anything weird, but she’s suspicious anyway. She doesn’t know what Grey did, but Grey did _something_.

Wash looks at the fake baby too. He makes a face. “It’s kind of creepy. It’s not just me, right? It’s creepy?”

“Yeah, it’s creepy,” Carolina agrees.

She only looks away when Wash clears his throat, alerted by the hesitation in his voice. “So, uh, potentially awkward question. I know you’re grounded for apparently forever, but birthdays don’t count, right?”

Carolina squints. “What?”

“Your birthday? It’s in a few weeks?”

“Oh,” Carolina says slowly. With school starting and her dad’s weekly visits, she hasn’t really thought about it. A complicated emotion tightens her chest. Her dad will actually be around for her birthday this year, but…. Will it be better or worse with him here, knowing her mom’s somewhere alone?

She pushes the thought away. She shrugs, keeping her expression neutral. “Yeah. I forgot. I’ll ask Grey and Kimball.”

Wash gives her a look. “I’m just saying, birthdays shouldn’t count for grounding.” Then he grins. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Niner would just throw you a party at school. Hope you like the whole cafeteria singing Happy Birthday to you.”

“No thanks,” Carolina says. She sees movement from the corner of her eye. “Uh--”

“Uh,” Wash echoes, staring as the baby’s plastic legs and arms flail and drag itself across the bed. He grabs for it and misses as it tips off the edge of the bed and lands with a thud. “Ms. Bogzigian just said they cried! She didn’t say anything about it moving!”

“Weird,” Carolina says, inwardly groaning.

Her tone must betray her annoyance over Grey’s prank, because Wash shoots her a confused look before he crouches and grabs the baby. The plastic baby continues to squirm, plastic fists narrowly avoiding Wash’s nose. He stares at it and complains, “Seriously, you’d think she’d mention the baby can actually crawl away from you.”

The plastic baby starts crying.

“I guess this is a little more realistic?” Carolina offers.

Wash gives her another look. “Yeah. Okay. Ow!” The latter is said as the fake baby successfully hits him in the jaw. He holds it away from him, scowling. “But does she really expect me to be able to take care of this for two days? I can’t chase a fake baby down a hallway! North and York would never let me live it down, and I don’t even want to think about Niner.”

Despite the situation, Carolina grins a little, imagining Niner’s glee. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound fun.”

“Can you be a little more sympathetic?” Wash complains. He gives the baby another shake and then yelps in a mixture of surprise and disgust as something comes out of the baby’s mouth. He drops the baby on the bed and wipes at his face. “Seriously? Fake spit? _Seriously_?”

Carolina inwardly sighs. “Uh, wow, that’s a little too realistic.”

Wash rolls his eyes and then lunges as the baby starts crawling away again. He holds it out as arms length, grimacing. “Can you, I don’t know, hold it while I call Connie? She’s doing Home Ec too.” Carolina’s expression must betray her surprise, because he snorts. “She and Connor are doing it as a joke or something, seeing which school’s Home Ec is more useless. Kinda feel like we’re gonna win.”

“Okay,” Carolina says. She takes the flailing fake baby from him. As soon as Wash closes the door behind him, she growls, “Ugh, if you sealed the spell, Grey--” She tosses the baby onto the bed and points at it, trying to think of a spell to undo this. Crap, she hates coming up with spells.

“Uh. Wash can’t know that magic exists, so end whatever spell on this doll persists.”

Her finger sparks blue and hits the baby right between the eyes.

The doll twitches for a second and then goes still. It lets out a mechanical cry. Carolina hopes that it’s not just wishful thinking that makes it sound like the fake baby’s usual cry. She keeps an eye on it, but it doesn’t move. Somehow now that it’s a normal doll again, it seems creepier.

When Wash gets back into the room, she tries to smile. He doesn’t smile back; instead he frowns at the baby, snatching it off the bed and examining it at arms length again. His eyebrows rise as he realizes it’s not moving anymore.

He glances at her. Carolina fights against a flush. She hates lying, especially over something this stupid. “So, I patted it a couple times and it stopped moving. Maybe you just needed to do that instead of shake it?” She shrugs. “ I don’t know. I either fixed it or broke it, so uh...sorry in advance...”

“Right,” Wash says. He sighs. “Worst class ever.”

* * *

Simmons' head is pounding, but he doesn't care. He has so many questions and he can hardly choose which one to ask first.

Was this orange tree a one-hit wonder or will it eventually grow more oranges? This clearing doesn’t get the proper sunlight a natural orange tree would need, so will it even survive? He wonders if the orange is edible, if it supernaturally ripened or--

Actually the biggest question he has is about the hostility in Church’s voice. Wait, he has a better one.

“Church, were you _spying_ on us?”

Church doesn’t look his way, his eyes fixed on Doctor Church, but he answers with a sarcastic, “No, I was just chilling in the woods. Small world, huh?”

Simmons narrows his eyes, ignoring the lingering headache. “Did you follow me from the school?”

“If you mean I hid in your backseat, yeah. You should be more careful. What if I’d been someone dangerous?”

Simmons almost touches his neck, remembering the time Carolina proved herself dangerous enough with just shoe laces and her hands. “Right,” he says dryly, and then realizes that Doctor Church hasn’t said a word since he magically dragged Church out of hiding.

When he looks over at Doctor Church, he’s surprised by the confusion in the man’s face. Well, not that confusion isn’t an understandable emotion to have in this moment, but the amount of it seems disportionate. There’s an echo of Church’s hostility in his narrowed gaze, but he mostly gives off an air of annoyed bewilderment, like Church has grown an extra head or started speaking Greek. “You followed Richard. Why?”

Church rolls his eyes. He stands up, brushing at the dirt clinging to his jeans. He still keeps his eyes on Doctor Church. The sarcastic edge lingers in his voice when he answers. “Never figured out your stupid cost-benefit analysis, so when I realized Simmons was going to meet you, I thought I'd tag along.” He snorts. “Not impressed.”

“Hey!” Simmons protests.

“Apples to oranges is basic stuff, dude,” Church says. “It’s one of the first spells any witch learns. Though it took Carolina a while to get it right.” There’s a weird challenging note to his voice now.

“I grew a tree too,” Simmons says, but he might as well have said nothing, because Doctor Church says in a low, even voice, “We’re not discussing Carolina. We’re discussing your emerging..._curiosity_.”

Church’s eyes widen. He’s been smirking, but now the smirk disappears. He licks his lips. He’s nervous, as though Doctor Church’s words have some hidden meaning.

Simmons watches with growing concern as Church’s eyes dart anxiously towards him and then around the clearing.

“Nothing emerging about it,” Church says quickly. “I'm curious about a lot of stuff. What's on the lunch menu for tomorrow. What the next dumb thing out of Caboose’s mouth will be. What, uh, actually, if this technically counts as me breaking curfew and I just got another century added on to me being grounded. I should...check on that....” He waves a hand vaguely over his shoulder.

Doctor Church watches him. “I’ll see you at the next dinner.”

Church grimaces. He takes a step back, watching Doctor Church back. Anxiety still radiates off him. His sarcasm is halfhearted as he mutters, “Well, you won’t exactly _see _me.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

Both witches stare at Simmons. He feels warmth creep into his face. “What? I technically drove him here, so, um. I should probably drive him home?”

A faint smirk crosses Church’s face. “Yeah, I can get home myself.” He raises his hand. His finger sparks with blue light, and a broom appears next to him, floating in mid-air.

Simmons stares. A few more questions rise to his lips, but what comes out is an annoyed, “Grif told me that brooms are a stereotype and I was being racist against witches.”

Church snickers as he swings his leg over the broom. “Yeah, no,” he says, looking slightly less nervous now that he’s on the broom and beginning to drift up towards the top of the trees. “He was giving you crap.”

“Wait!” Simmons says, and Church pauses. “Uh, people are gonna notice if you fly around. It's not even dark yet!”

There’s a belated pause. From Church’s expression, Simmons suspects that he wasn’t even thinking about people looking up at the sky. Then he scoffs and waves a hand, almost managing to tip himself over. “Uh, duh, that’s why I'm also gonna be invisible.”

A second later Church and the broom blink out of sight.

Simmons feels a pang of envy at how easily and naturally Church does magic. Then he looks at the orange tree and reminds himself that he _can_ do magic. He just has to work a little harder.

“Have fun, Mr. Simmons,” says Church above them. “Try not to pass out.” This slightly sarcastic goodbye is followed by a loud, “Ow!” as one of the trees shakes like someone’s accidentally hit its tip.

“You okay?” Simmons calls with a frown.

He gets a sulky, “I’m _fine_,” before a longer silence.

Simmons scans the sky though he knows he won’t see anything, still frowning. “Is, um, flying while invisible safe? It seems like--”

“He said he was fine. Shall we get back to work?” Doctor Church interrupts, a trace of impatience in his voice.

Simmons hesitates. He wants to get back to their experiment, but when he thinks of Church’s nervous expression and darting eyes, his stomach gives an unpleasant dip. He doesn’t know what’s going on between Church and his father, but the obvious tension between them infects him with Church’s anxiety.

There has to be a way to deescalate things. “You know, this isn’t even the first time someone’s hidden in my car? Grif’s done the same thing. I didn’t realize he was so curious about our experiments.” He tries to smile, to show he’s more amused than anything else.

Doctor Church doesn’t smile back. His gaze is unreadable. “His interest is…unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Simmons says. Church has been clearly weirded out by Simmons using magic in the past, when he wasn’t being actively resistant to it or forced to grudgingly accept his help. “Doesn’t seem like he’s a fan of our experiments. He’s stopped Carolina from helping me before.” Realizing how that sounds, he winces and adds, “I mean, I understand! Sounds like it’d be a big deal for the Council, and he and Carolina probably want to keep their heads down after Felix--”

“What does Carolina have to do with Felix?”

One look at Doctor Church's face and Simmons realizes he has _royally_ screwed up. “Uh….”

“Explain,” Doctor Church says sharply.

“I mean, um, Dr. Grey and Ms. Kimball didn’t-- uh, I thought--”

“_Explain._”

It’s not a spell, but Simmons obeys. “Well, um, Carolina was trying to find a loophole to, uh, speak to her mom--” He stops again, this time alarmed by the way color leeches from Doctor Church’s face. “But, uh, the spell went wrong and Felix and Locus used it to break out of prison, and uh. Well.”

He tries to figure out a way to summarize those few months and concludes weakly, knowing it’s a stupid thing to say and an enormous understatement even as the words leave his mouth, “It was a few bad months before we stopped Felix and Locus….”

Doctor Church is silent. He looks stricken, like-- well, exactly like a father would after learning his children were involved with murderers. He starts to say, “What--” The word comes out rusty, like he’s forgotten how to speak. He blinks, once, twice, and then pins Simmons to the spot with his glare. “That tells me everything and nothing.”

“I, uh, just assumed they’d already told you,” Simmons says. He tries not to sound miserable or defensive, and isn’t sure if it manages it, because Doctor Church’s gaze goes even colder. “But, uh, I will answer your questions, of course!”

“I want to know exactly what danger Carolina was in.”

“Oh,” Simmons says weakly. “Right. That.” He tries to figure out how to summarize things, even as a quiet voice in the back of his head glumly wonders how all this fell on his shoulders. Tonight started out so well. He did magic! ...And now he gets to explain that Carolina almost died at least three times.

“Um, yeah, I’m, uh, sorry, but a lot.” Simmons shivers a little, remembering the vicious glee in Felix’s voice as he toyed with Carolina and Church, and the sound the knife made as Felix threw it towards the kids. “Felix was threatening them when I got to the cafeteria where they’d done the spell-- uh, they did the spell at the school at night, and he had a knife and--”

Simmons pauses, distracted again by Doctor Church’s expression. Felix got off lightly burning to death in that volcano. He licks his lips. “I, uh, was heading to my classroom to try some spells, since Grif didn’t want-- and I, uh, heard all the noise and-- oh, I did my second spell, I teleported us out to my car. That probably confirms the effluvium theory? The school can't be on a ley line, because more of my spells would've worked, so it must've-- uh, but that's for later. Right. The uh, other times....”

"At first we were all trying to keep our heads down and let the Council handle it, but then Church and Carolina called us for help because, uh, Carolina had one of Felix's knives and it was..." He winces. "It was trying to kill her? The knife was a direct line to Felix, and she'd been, um, well, you'd have to ask her, but I think she was trying to goad him so he'd mess up and get caught. Church had kept the knife contained with a spell, but uh--" It's only as he remembers the exhaustion and fear in Church's face that Simmons' flustered brain catches up. Doctor Church didn't ask about his son. He only asked about Carolina.

Simmons falters for a second, unsettled and confused. "Um, Church actually saved Carolina's life. He did that containment spell and managed to hold it until Grif and I got to their house. I figured out a way to trick the knife and we called a truce and just, uh, kept hoping the Council would actually catch Felix and Locus. But they didn't, obviously."

He pauses, trying to get a read on Doctor Church. Did he understand that Church saved Carolina’s life? It’s hard to tell. Especially when the last explanation makes Simmons queasy just thinking about it. How can he explain that final showdown? He _really_ doesn’t want to get turned into a frog by an angry dad, not when he’s just figured out a way to do magic on a regular basis.

Into the silence, Doctor Church says, “And then Locus approached Dexter, and you were able to convince him to turn against Felix.”

“Oh. Uh. Not...exactly. You see, Carolina used the knife to scry on Locus and Felix, and that’s how we figured out that Felix planned to blow up most of Massachusetts.”

“We,” says Doctor Church flatly.

“Uh…..” After the magical prank war, Simmons had known two things. First, that Carolina was going to try and fight Felix again. Second, that he couldn’t stop her. All he could do was make her promise to tell him when she planned to do something stupid. There’s no diplomatic way to say that, though.

He finally mutters, “Uh, I’d asked her to keep me and Grif in the loop if she did anything else. So when she wanted to scry, we were there too. And when we realized what Felix and Locus were planning, um…..”

Doctor Church’s eyes narrow. “Dexter talked Locus down. Is that accurate to the reports?"

Flustered, Simmons says, “Well-- I mean yes and--”

“You provided transport.”

Simmons flashbacks to that awkward car ride. "....Yeah."

There’s a small pause that feels like it lasts forever. Doctor Church starts to rub a hand across his bloodless lips. He aborts the gesture with a faint grimace, but not before Simmons sees the way that his hand is shaking. Doctor Church says slowly, sounding as though he suspects he knows the answer but is hoping to be wrong, "And Carolina was...involved.”

"Carolina and Church," Simmons says. He adds hastily, “I didn’t want them to be there! But we all heard Felix and Locus’ plan. There didn’t seem like time to tell the Council, and besides, how would we without Carolina and Church getting into trouble, and me, uh, getting my memories wiped, and Grif probably-- but Carolina was going to go after them, and I couldn’t exactly stop her, and neither could Grif, and we just-- we went with her and Church because we couldn’t let them face those guys alone.”

“I see,” Doctor Church says, and nothing else for a moment. He stares through Simmons, apparently lost in thought, and Simmons doesn’t dare to break the silence. Then Doctor Church shakes his head. "Well, I trust there are no more convicted murderers in Westbridge, but if Carolina is ever in danger, you will contact me."

The terse words have the air of command, and Simmons is nodding even before Doctor Church has finished talking. He inwardly winces at the line about no more convicted murderers in the city, thinking of Locus, who’s still living in his apartment complex. Simmons is willing to admit to himself that he’s been hiding from the man, even if he can’t use magic anymore and doesn’t understand how to use a microwave. Locus is still terrifying.

“Uh, yes, sir,” he says.

Doctor Church takes a slow breath. His hand rises again, this time to adjust his glasses. His expression shifts, from a strained look to a focused, steel-eyed one. “Now, let’s get back to work.”

Simmons feels a rush of complicated emotions at that. First, relief that this horrible conversation is almost over. Second, frustration that Doctor Church seems so focused on his daughter and not worried about his son. Third, excitement about doing more magic.

He clings to the relief and excitement. He’ll wonder about Church’s relationship with his dad later. Simmons glances down at the orange tree, which hasn’t wilted or vanished during this whole exchange. He refocuses.

“Right! Uh, did we want me to try and duplicate the spell or try another spell or--”

Doctor Church summons an apple with a quick wave of his hand. “I think for the time being, repetition is key. Do you remember your spell?”

For a second Simmons’ mind goes blank and he forgets every single word in the English language. Then he remembers and gives a relieved laugh. “Oh, yeah! Of course. So….” He points a few feet away from them, bites at the corners of his mouth so he won’t start smiling like an idiot, and repeats the spell.

“Apples to oranges is all well and good, but I can add some citrus to these woods!”

Like before, he can feel the gathering pressure in the air as the magic swirls around the apple, knows instinctively that the spell is going to work again. He watches with no less wonder than before as another tree explodes from the ground.

It’s only as Doctor Church reaches out and plucks the second orange off the new tree that Simmons remembers he’d meant to envision more oranges as he said the spell, see if his silent intention affected the quantity of oranges.

He has a second of disappointment, and then the backlash hits him.

Simmons’ vision blurs, the orange turning into a smear of color in Doctor Church’s hand. The clearing spins around him. He almost reaches out to grab the tree to keep himself steady, swallowing around the strange taste in his mouth, like he’s bitten into an apple and an orange at the same time. Instead he stands very still until the feelings pass. He just hopes Doctor Church didn't notice.

When he glances at Doctor Church, he can’t get a read on his expression, but Doctor Church doesn’t immediately announce they should stop these experiments, so everything’s fine. A little vertigo in exchange for magic is fine. The weird apple-orange fusion taste in his mouth is finally gone. He's barely even dizzy anymore! Everything is going great.

* * *

Carolina fiddles with her fork and resists the urge to check the time. It’ll just tell her what she already knows: her father is late to dinner. She grits her teeth. It’s only been a few minutes, but he’s always prided himself on being punctual. So either something’s happened or--

Or he forgot. Or he decided he had better things to do. Or--

“Well, it isn’t like Leonard to be late,” Grey says. Carolina looks up, alerted to the manic cheerfulness in Grey’s voice. The witch has her eyes on the clock and a dangerous edge to her smile. “We’ll give him a few more minutes and then I’ll summon him myself.”

“Or we could eat dinner,” Church suggests, going from sullen to hopeful in a second. “He snoozes, he loses--” His shoulders slump at the now-familiar thundercrack. He mutters, “That felt like it was on purpose….”

Her father appears in the doorway, his hand outstretched as it brushes the edge of the frame. Even after a few dinners, Carolina still isn’t used to his eyes. “My apologies for being late.”

Grey doesn’t look mollified, but she does look slightly surprised, like she hadn’t expected even a curt apology from him. “Next time we start without you,” she informs him, and then points a finger. The air briefly fills with the clatter of dishes as dinner appears.

“Understood,” he says. He takes a step towards the table, transferring his hand to the back of the nearest chair, which happens to be Carolina’s.

From the corner of her eye, Carolina sees Church slouch lower in his seat and lean away, like he instinctively wants to avoid her dad’s eyes even knowing he can’t see a thing and put as much distance between them as possible. Right. She has her plan. She supposes now's as good a time as any to start talking Church up. She clears her throat. “Hey, Dad--”

She pauses when his hand touches her shoulder. For a second she thinks he’s lost his balance or is just fumbling around blindly in his self-made magical dark, but then his hand stays. It stays long enough that it has to be on purpose.

Carolina tries to get a look at his face, but he drops his hand from her arm and turns away as Grey says brightly, “Your chair is to your right, Leonard!” She glances around, trying to gauge if anyone else noticed the strange moment, but Church is scowling at his plate, Kimball is busy cutting into her steak, and Grey is doing her usual manic unreadable smile thing.

As her father sits down, Carolina tries to remember what she’d planned to say.

“How is your studying going?” her father asks.

“School’s good,” she says before she realizes he’s probably asking about her spellwork. She’s glad he can’t see her grimace. It’s not her fault most of the spells seem pointless, but she knows he won’t accept that for an answer to why she hasn’t been doing too much magic. Before he can ask, she adds quickly, “The clubs started. Church built a robot.”

Church straightens up from his slouch, turning to stare at Carolina. He doesn't say anything, but he looks confused and annoyed, like he thinks she's thrown him under the bus. The confusion and annoyance disappears when her father says, “Is robotics something he...you are interested in, then?”

Now Church gapes at her father. Then his eyes narrow. He looks like he suspects this is a trap, one he’s not sure how to avoid. He shoots Carolina one more look, this time half-accusing, before he says warily, “Not really. But it’s better than staring at my wall.”

“He joined for Caboose,” Carolina says. “His friend.” She gives the last word the same pointed emphasis she used to for Kimball and Grey in those first few weeks when they wouldn’t treat Church like a person.

“I see,” her father says slowly. “So you have mortal friends.”

Church looks weirded out by her father’s continued focus on him. “No, Caboose is a witch,” he says, every word dripping sarcasm. He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms against his chest and abandoning his food. “Uh, yeah, Leonard. I have friends. And since I’m stuck in the mortal realm, that means mortal friends. What did you think was gonna happen?”

Something flickers across her father’s face. He doesn’t say anything. The silence lingers just long enough to feel awkward. Then her father says in a clipped tone, glancing vaguely in Carolina’s direction, “I assumed Vanessa and Emily would introduce you to both mortal and witch peers.”

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions, Leonard,” Grey says. “Though I suppose they should meet witches their own age….”

She and Kimball exchange a look. Kimball says, “In a month or two, once they’ve gotten back into the swing of things at school.”

“Is there anything else you assumed we would do as Carolina’s guardians, Leonard?” Grey asks, her voice dangerously cheerful. She taps a finger to her lips. “We should probably clear the air before any other unfortunate misunderstandings--”

Kimball hastily steers the conversation to a safer topic: an incident with a ridiculous patron she’d encountered at the library. Church looks relieved by the subject change, laughing a little too loudly at Kimball’s story.

Throughout the rest of dinner, Carolina can feel her father’s blind gaze on her again and again, his head turning in her direction so often that she can’t help but notice. She doesn’t know what to make of it.

One thing she does know for sure is that her father is actually paying attention to Church now. That’s progress, right?

**Author's Note:**

> **Fun trivia fact:** Those are very, _very_ fake oranges because Simmons' actor is allergic to citrus.


End file.
